Pineapple Playlist
by mnolheart
Summary: Several mostly drabbles based on songs. Mostly Shawn/Lassiter, with Gus/Juliet and some general stuff thrown in for good measure. Mostly slash.
1. I am NOT a WHORE

Note: Based on the song "I am NOT a WHORE" by LMFAO

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or anything produced by LMFAO

Gus sat at a small table at Tom Blair's pub, enjoying the company and conversation of Juliet O'Hara when his best friend and occasional wingman Shawn slammed his half empty beer bottle rudely on the table.

"I am NOT a WHORE," Shawn stated firmly.

"What the hell are you talking about Shawn?"

"Dude. Can't a guy want to have a nice conversation with someone without jumping into bed with them?"

"Uh, you can't."

"See! That right there! That's hurtful and messed up."

"Shawn," Juliet interjected, placing a claming hand on Shawn's arm. "We know you're not a whore. Its just… you're a little bit of a flirt… with everyone… all the time."

"Well, I like to do it… Its just, I feel like some girls just want me for my body!"

Gus couldn't help himself but snort into the hand that was attempting to stifle his giggles.

"Shut up!" Shawn exclaimed defensively. "I mean, I'm a human not a freakin' sandwich!"

Now it was Juliet who lost control of herself, bursting into her own fit of giggles.

"Not you too, Jules! Gah, fine!" Shawn shot them both a dirty look before turning to stomp away, but paused a little ways away and spun back to look at his friends.

"But I am NOT a WHORE!"

Gus and Juliet's giggles were joined by those of the people at the several tables around them. Shawn huffed and continued his dramatic retreat.


	2. Relapse

Note: Based on the song "Relapse" by Jesse McCartney

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or anything produced by Jesse McCartney

Carlton swung his long legs over the edge of his bed and pulled the rest of his body after them and into a sitting position. He didn't have to glance around his room to know that the jeans, teeshirt and boxers that had been carelessly and passionately strewn about the floor were long gone. He didn't have to reach across the bed and feel the cold, empty sheets to know that they were vacant of last night's occupant. He didn't have to tell himself that this was the last time because he already had. Every time would be the last time. But this time he meant it.

Carlton stacked the forms he had finished filling out and filed them in their respective folders. He didn't have to glare over at the front door of the station to know that the cause of the sudden commotion was a certain fake psychic consultant bursting into the room. He didn't have to open the small folded paper that had been tucked into his holster strap by said consultant to know that it was an invitation to come over to his apartment after work tonight. He didn't need to keep the paper in his pocket for the rest of the day because he knew he was going to throw it away anyways, He didn't need to give himself excuses because he knew that it was over. He had decided.

Carlton turned the key to power down the engine of his midsized sedan. He didn't have to look over at the large off-white building on the corner to know that the window of the apartment second from the right was glowing from the light within. He didn't have to knock on the door marked 145B to know that Shawn Spencer would open it within five seconds of his first knock with a grin that was almost bigger than his face. He didn't have to tell Shawn that this was the last time because he already had. Shawn didn't have to agree that, "yes, of course, the last time," before pulling him into the apartment because Carlton knew it wasn't and was pretty sure it never would be.


	3. Cry

Note: Based on the song "Cry" by Mandy Moore

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or anything produced by Mandy Moore

A cool breeze blew against Gus' face as he leaned against his little blue car, waiting for Shawn to come back from the concession stand with Abigail. He thought it a bit strange, this whole Shawn-and-Abigail thing. Even though he has said it was tired, Gus honestly thought Shawn was starting to have real feelings for Juliet. But, whatever Shawn thought was best was what Gus would have to deal with.

Gus' train of though was interrupted by a slight movement outside of the drive-in concession stand. Someone had come out the back entrance, but it wasn't Shawn or Abigail. Although she had changed out of her earlier detective suit, Gus could tell that the someone was Juliet.

_What's she doing here?_ Gus asked himself.

"Hello!" Gus shouted with a wave, but he received no response. "Juliet?" he called again. Now Gus was worried. It wasn't like her to be antisocial. He started off towards her at a slow jog.

"Juliet?" he called more softly as he approached her from behind. She stopped and he drew even with her and realized that she was crying.

"Juliet? What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?" Gus asked in a panic. "What… Are you hurt? Did something happen? Are you o—"

Gus' panicked rambling was interrupted by surprise as Juliet turned and leaned into Gus' chest. She continued to sob quietly, her shoulders sagging and Gus just stood frozen. He had to force his thoughts to continue to process what was happening. Juliet was crying. The happy-go-lucky, sweet, young detective was crying against his chest.

_Comfort her, dammit!_ His brain yelled to his body. He complied, wrapping his arms around Juliet's shoulders and pulling her closer.

Juliet's wall seemed to fall down when Gus responded and she let out a deep, heart wrenching sob.

"Hey," Gus whispered, "don't cry, Juliet. You're okay now." He rubbed her shoulders soothingly and held her tighter. They stayed that way for some time until Juliet calmed down and her eyes were relatively dry. She pulled back slowly and looked up at Gus with swollen, red eyes.

"Thank you, Gus."

"Of course, Juliet. Just… just let me know if you need anything. Anything at all."

Juliet nodded and gave him a weak smile and a squeeze on the arm before turning and walking away. Gus watched her until she rounded the corner of the building and was out of sight. He then turned the opposite direction and made his way back to his little car.

He got back in the car and stared out the window at the huge drive-in screen. He could still see those wet, swollen blue eyes peering up at him. He thought they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen and he wondered why he had never noticed before. He'd always liked the junior detective—enjoyed talk with her about comics and the Shabby-cam and things like that—but this felt different.

Shawn and Abigail approached the car and Gus felt a little more okay about his best friend's choice of date.


	4. Wake Up

Note: Based on the song "Wake Up" by Alanis Morissette

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or anything produced by Alanis Morissette

It had been three months since Carlton had confronted Shawn about this… _thing_ that had going on between them since they had met years ago. All the flirting and the touching and the tension had finally gotten under Carlton's skin and he just couldn't hold it in anymore. Fortunately, the risk Carlton took did not result in a sexual harassment suit and a request for his resignation as he had feared. Instead, he ended up in an even more confusing relationship with Shawn Spencer—one that fully acknowledged the physical tension that had built up between the two men, but the meaning of or emotions involved with a normal relationship were simply never discussed.

Carlton felt like they had developed an attachment of that sort—the emotional sort—but every time he even began to bring up talking about their relationship, Shawn would change the topic. Not that Shawn wasn't affectionate or loving towards Carlton. Quite the opposite, in fact, which was what confused Carlton the most. Shawn was always hanging around Carlton's apartment after sex, wanting to watch TV together or go out to eat together or just hang out doing nothing together. He always touched Carlton in the gentlest ways, holding his hand or running his fingers over Carlton's neck while they were talking. He just refused to talk about it—about anything really, other than superficial things. Carlton didn't want that kind of relationship and again, it had been building up for the past three months, digging under his skin and bothering him constantly. Finally, he decided that the only way to get Shawn to admit to anything was to confront him head on with no way out and no chance for retreat.

"Shawn, come here," Carlton requested, patting the seat next to him on his couch as Shawn let himself in the door. Carlton tried to keep the frustration out of his voice lest Shawn sense the seriousness of the upcoming conversation and try to leave before it even began.

"What's up, Lassie?" Shawn asked lightly, kissing Carlton on the cheek as he sat down on the couch close enough to Carlton so that their legs touched.

"You like me, right, Shawn?" Carlton began, trying not to sound like a crush-stricken schoolgirl.

"I certainly like some parts of you," Shawn replied, brushing his hand up Carlton's thigh with a teasing smile.

"Shawn, that's not what I meant," Carlton sighed, and Shawn frowned, now obviously sensing an oncoming train of seriousness.

"Lassie, I thought this was okay. I thought we were doing just fine like this. Why do you have to—"

"Because, Shawn," Carlton interrupted sharply, "we're not doing just fine like this. I don't just want someone to play with every once in a while, and I don't think that's what you want either."

"What on earth gave you that impression, Lassie?" Shawn asked with an incredulous chuckle. "I haven't had a relationship last longer than two weeks in… ever! I thought we made it pretty clear when we started this that it was purely physical. I mean, not that you're not a great guy, I just—"

"God, you are so dense!" Carlton shouted, standing and turning to look down on the younger man. "First of all, we've been doing this for three months, which is longer than two weeks the last time I checked. Second, we didn't make that clear. We didn't make anything clear! And you know why? Because you always ran away every time I tried to talk about what the hell this thing between us was!"

"Carlton," Shawn began, standing up to look into the taller man's eyes, "maybe we didn't write up a contract, but we've never been anything more than fuck-buddies. It seemed to me like that's what you wanted too, so honestly, I'm sort of surprised at this whole conversation. And, since I am a psychic, I probably know your own feelings better than you do, so really, this whole conversation is ridiculous. I think it would be best if we just slept on it and talked again tomorrow. Or maybe we could just forget it ever happened!"

Shawn finished talking with a shrug and a grin, and began to make a move for the door, but Carlton would have none of it. He grabbed Shawn's arm to prevent him from leaving and moved closer to him so that their noses were almost touching.

"You know, you can't keep living your life this way, Spencer," he growled, too angry to use his first name. "I know it's easier to just blow me off and do whatever the hell you want, but you can't anymore. You act like you want more from me until we finally talk about it and then you try to push me away. You use me when it's convenient for you, but you don't want to get too close because that's hard."

Shawn tried to pry his arm out of Carlton's grasp to no avail, but continued to stare stubbornly at the wall behind Carlton's head.

"Look at me Shawn!"

Finally, Shawn locked his eyes with the intense blue ones that were staring back at him.

"What, you're not done giving me my father's speech yet? Just get to the part where you tell me you're disappointed in me and that I should get a real job, so I can go home."

"Shawn, I'm not giving you your father's speech. I'm trying to have a conversation with you, but you refuse to take part in it."

"Why do you care anyways, Carlton? You just use me for sex too."

Carlton sighed and loosened his grip on Shawn's bicep.

"I care… I care because I don't want to just use you for sex. I don't want you to use me either. I want us to be more. I think we _can_ be more, Shawn."

Carlton searched Shawn's face for acceptance, for recognition, for anything, and he was surprised by what he found. Shawn's eyes had softened, revealing a vulnerability Carlton very rarely saw in the man.

"You really have to make things hard, don't you?" Shawn asked quietly.

"Life is hard, Shawn."

"Mine's not," Shawn pouted, "at least, it's not supposed to be." Carlton sighed as Shawn started to fidget in his grasp. He released Shawn, running his fingers down the psychic's arm before pulling away.

"That's fine," Carlton said with a nod. "If you want to keep living your easy life, that's fine. But I can't live like that… I just can't." And with that, he turned away from Shawn and took a step toward the door.

"Carlton," Shawn called to the detective's back. Carlton stopped, not turning to look at the man he was leaving behind. He didn't think he could look. It would break his determination and he had to hold on to that, if nothing else. He waited for Shawn to continue.

"I know I've been shitty to you, Carly. I know I have, and I don't want to be. I hate to see you upset like this and I hate that it's my fault, but I know it is. I may act like an idiot, and sometimes I definitely am an idiot, but I didn't want this to happen. I care, too, Carly, about us. I do. I just can't talk about shit. I mean, I _only_ talk about shit. I can't talk about anything that's not meaningless shit. It's that whole, emotionally stunted youth thing. I mean, you know my dad. I pretty much didn't learn how to talk about anything but shit and police work. It's pathetic, really, and I know it sounds like I'm just giving you excuses, and maybe I am, but I don't mean to. I just… I just can't fucking say what I mean!" Shawn finally paused, breathing heavily. Carlton had to stop himself from turning around, hugging Shawn, and forgiving him for the whole thing. He knew that wouldn't solve their problem, so he waited again, for Shawn to finish.

"I honestly… I don't want you to go Carlton. I don't want use you, either, but I don't want… I _can't_ make this thing serious. I… I don't do serious… seriously," he chuckled half-heartedly. "So, if you want to go, it's probably better. You don't want this…"

Finally Carlton had to turn to face Shawn.

"You're right, Shawn. It's probably better. I don't want this, whatever this has been."

Shawn sighed resolutely, hanging his head.

"What I do want," Carlton continued, stepping closer to Shawn, "is you. I don't want some stupid non-relationship, but I need you to understand that doesn't mean I don't want you. I'll wait, if you need time, but I don't want to leave this thing without you knowing that I still want you."

Shawn slowly raised his eyes to meet Carlton's, that vulnerability still there in his face.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, and Carlton could tell it had taken a lot for him to say that. It was a phrase rarely heard from the psychic's mouth. Carlton stepped closer, closing the gap that had been between them and reached out to touch Shawn's face.

"I know."

"Thank you for waiting."

"Always."

"I don't deserve you."

"I know," Carlton replied with a small smile.

"You're not supposed to agree," Shawn pouted. Carlton smiled wider, leaning down to kiss Shawn's lips lightly.

"Don't make me wait too long," Carlton whispered against Shawn's lips.

"I won't."


End file.
